


Bruises

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Breaking Up & Making Up, HYDRA Husbands, Lost Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Mutual Pining, Regret, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Sappy, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: It's been ten years since Jack and Brock went their separate ways.





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> I am ridiculously all over Mitski's ['Once More to See You'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eocAzsu29Tc) for Hydra Husbands feels.

There’s music playing low in the diner, all empty except for one guy at the counter and a couple in a booth holding hands having an early breakfast when it was still dark out with a little sleeping baby strapped in its car seat propped on the table. The timer chimes from the serving window looking into the kitchen, Bruce sitting in the back and reading a tired worn paperback. He looks up the second Jack approaches to turn the alarm off and makes a gesture to the oven.

“Thanks Bruce.”

“You let me eat these muffins for free, the least I can do.”

A small chuckle escapes him as he turns to grab the damp cloth, wiping down the counter and removing a plate laden with leftover syrup and a half drank cup of coffee. He gets the lone trucker minding his business and perched on the last stool a refill, receiving a small appreciative nod from a hat pulled low to avoid the cast of light from overhead. He walks by the kitchen service window again, Bruce back to reading with his feet resting on another chair, the muffins look good and he’s glad. He’s always worried about them turning out bad even though he has no reason to. 

It’s a comfortable life for him, he’s content and happy taking care of a diner out in the middle of nowhere with his home town only about an hour’s drive away if he really needs to get back to it. He likes the quiet, his parents running the place before him and filled with memories of when they were around as he grew up playing with kids traveling or reading everything he could get his hands on. 

His mother taught him how to bake everything they sold, proud to say their baked goods were fresh and delicious. His father showed him all about the workings and going ons, he insisted on taking orders and helping wherever he could, listening to people tell him their stories of travel. Sometimes he wished to go out and do those things some people did but it was a little hard to think of anywhere else he would be except where his parents were happiest before the accident took them away from him forever.

In a few more hours he was going get a lot more customers than this, breakfast and lunch usually did well, Steve would be in at 5am to start his shift and Wanda usually came in at 6 with her brother who relieved Bruce. Bucky usually came in sometime between lunch and dinner to help Wanda or do the food prep for Bruce’s return. They all kept odd hours but they worked out well as a unit, he was happy to know each of them. The diner made enough to keep it afloat and that was really all that mattered to Jack, he wanted to keep this memory tangible and help out friends at the same time.

He finds himself humming along to some new song that’s been playing the past week. He likes it a lot, chipping a few words off each line in his head, it’s not really his type of music but he likes it all the same. The woman’s voice is a little haunting, a little breathy at times and it easily takes him back to fingers in his hair, kisses roaming down his neck. Jack snaps himself out of his daydream just as the man from the booth that was evidently the husband approaches with the table's bill in hand and his mug of coffee.

“I was wondering if I could get this to go?” 

Jack gives him a warm smile, nodding and taking a quick glance at his wife stacking dishes and neatening up the area they sat in before checking on the baby and picking up the car seat to join her husband ready to continue on their trip to wherever. He turns to fill a large to go cup with fresh coffee, placing the mug aside for the sink. He pops on a lid before taking one of the paper bags stacked to the side and adding the last two blueberry muffins sitting in a display cabinet into it, rolling the top closed and setting them in front of the customer who was looking at him in surprise.

“On the house, we made them earlier and it’s policy not to keep ‘em for longer than a day.” 

“Thank you.” The wife says, smiling gratefully as she joins them, it makes Jack feel good that he can do things like that.

With the bill paid, they exit after leaving a way too large tip that has him staring after them with the bell jingling for the door.

About half an hour passes before the trucker at the end of the counter decides to take off, leaving his newspaper and a few crumpled dollar bills behind, giving a gesture with his index finger at the side of his hat in goodbye before stepping outside into the darkness. Jack nods back in kind even if the fella doesn’t catch it.

With the place empty, Jack collects all the dirty dishes into a bin and passes it through the service window, Bruce getting up to his feet to deal with them while he turns back to sweep up the place. Fans lightly hum overhead along with the music, the one he was listening to earlier still tucked away and taking its course. 

The song just speaks volumes to him, whistling softly as he reaches corners and underneath chairs with his broom lost in his thoughts about the past, memories maybe he should keep buried if he wants to move on but knows in his heart he just can’t. 

He remembers days spent in his bed, warm and content with his legs tangled up with Brock’s. Sometimes they were clothed and other times they were naked, fingers dancing along his shoulder and around his chest. He would watch Brock sleep, brushing back the dark mess of hair from his face and press kisses against his nose then to his jaw all the way to his throat. Sometimes Brock would wake up and accuse him of being too romantic but he’d be smiling when he’d be saying it and Jack would only pull him closer to his body. 

The first time they did it was in Jack’s bed. Brock was fussing about being bored while Jack was in his book. Brock tried to steal it then when that didn't work he prodded at him until Jack finally threw himself on top in an attempt to shut him up, pinning him down easily. Of course Brock fought to get back the upper hand but Jack stood his ground staring down at the body beneath him and suddenly something inside of him changed. He still doesn’t know what to call it, the way Brock stared up at him and gave up his struggle, his chest rising and falling under the thin fabric of his t-shirt while Jack's mouth went dry. All he could do was swallow thickly and lean in to kiss him.

It wasn’t like kissing was something new, since the moment they went on their date they were kissing but sex was something they barely talked about. Jack was all about _the one_ which he figured out quickly was Brock and Brock was, despite how much they did with clothes on, never asking him for more. Brock was more experienced than him, people talked, there were stories in high school, Jack wasn’t afraid of embarrassing himself he was just afraid of Brock getting bored of him. 

They kissed each other breathless and Jack was kissing his neck and marking his skin when he admitted he wanted to and Brock only nodded in return, shaky hands working on the fly of Jack’s jeans while he moved to catch Brock’s mouth..

The door jingles when another customer walks in and breaks Jack out of his thoughts again, absently standing in the middle of the diner with the broom in his hands. It was a long time ago but the song brought back so much.

“Have a seat wherever you like, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Jack automatically greeted without looking up at his new customer, one pair of shoes stepping in, he didn’t want them to see him looking a little distracted. He goes to put the broom to the side behind the counter, hand automatically running through a trimmed beard around his face that he keeps from time to time even though Piet keeps calling him a hobo whenever he takes that route. He knows he kind of looks out of place with it but he just gets an urge at times. 

As a change of pace he switches the radio to a similar station but one he hopes isn’t playing the new tune anytime soon. The last thing he really wants is to think about him and Brock anymore. It was only for the summer and he was aware that Brock would be leaving and never looking back. They talked about it early on, Jack just didn’t realize he was going to fall in love so hard. 

Tugging the small order pad from his apron pocket, Jack turned around when he heard the stool scrape along the floor and his customer sat themselves down just behind him, “What can I get you?”

The second he rests his eyes on the man, he freezes. It’s like he’s taken back to that summer; those warm copper eyes, sharp and observant. Brock’s bulked up a little since he had seen him in person last, muscles where there weren’t any before but he’s still wiry, still compact unlike some of those guys he’s seen that he fights against. He’s smiling, slow and sure like he always did.

“Coffee’d be good right ‘bout now, please.”

Jack’s suddenly nervous, trying to mentally calm himself down and take a breath. Brock doesn’t seem to recognize him and he can get that, with his beard now instead of just some scruff, his hair is down to the nape and slicked back instead of whatever shorter lazy thing he did in school. He’s bulked up too, working out with Steve and Bucky instead of just being tall and lean back like he was back then, ten damn years ago.

He turns and takes a minute for himself, grabbing one of the coffee mugs and pouring out a cup, pretending like he’s fixing something on the carafe before setting it back. Brock looks good, his mind racing around a mile a minute at how well he's aged despite fighting for a living while he’s been here just stagnant and probably looking much older than he is. He absently gets the milk out because he knows Brock hates creamer and sets it by hands on the counter.

Pretending to wipe down the bar again, Brock thanks him as he keeps looking at him between sips after adding in milk and sugar. Jack tries his best to keep calm, his pulse beating so hard it feels like his skin is vibrating. The moment it looks like Brock wants to say something, his phone goes off and he pulls it out, releasing a small sigh as he sets down his mug.

“Yeah, I’m alive, I just turned off my phone..”

Jack can’t help listening in, straightening up things and pulling over a tray of salt shakers and ketchup bottles that need to be refilled. He sticks close because even though it’s been a long time, too long for them, he can’t help staying in Brock’s vicinity and just take him in until he loses him again.

“..No you ain’t gotta drop by Larry, no..My head don’t hurt no more from that, don’t gotta worry, said I was fine..Nah ain’t in my apartment..No I left the city to take a drive..Calm the fuck down I ain’t leavin’, you’re my damn coach I wouldn’t fuckin’ do that to ya alright? Jus’ had ta..Monday I’ll come back, yeah?..I know I gotta train for that match, I know but..” Brock’s voice softened, “..I had ta do somethin’ Lar, important to me..Yeah, I’ll call you later, promise boss..Yeah..Bye.”

The low music fills in the space between them, occasionally the sound of Brock’s coffee mug hitting the counter lightly comes up, feeling eyes watching him as he hyper-focuses on filling in the salt.

“Jack?”

Voice was so soft and unsure, Jack wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, lifting his head and staring at Brock like he was still trying to make sure it was said.

Brock shook his head, smiling at himself, “Sorry, I thought you were someone else. Look kinda like him, you related to Jack Rollins? They owned this place back when I lived close by.”

“It’s me. Jack.” He admitted, still staring at Brock like he wasn’t sure anymore if the person before him was real or not, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Oh,” Brock let out, closing his mouth after a few seconds and swallowing as he tried to process, “I don’t know if you remember me, I know it’s- ”

“Brock.” Jack gave him a tight smile, not able to help himself, trying his best to sound aloof and hoping his voice doesn’t tremble, “I wasn’t sure entirely but I realized when you were talking. Been awhile.”

Brock smiles, his shoulders relaxing a little, his body straightening up, “Yeah it has. How’re you doin these days?”

Jack contemplates telling him everything is fine and giving one of his run downs he gives to people he’s known in the past when they ask him how he is but he doesn’t in the end, moving so he’s standing right before him behind the counter, resting hands on the surface leaving himself open for conversation. “Always the same.” 

In turn, Brock is doing well for himself, something Jack has already known but it’s nice to hear it from the horse’s mouth so to speak.

“Would be great to see you fight, must be exciting.”

Brock only shrugs like it’s nothing, nodding at him, “So really, what about you? I know I ain't deservin' of any details but I'm curious.”

Jack opens up and tells him about how the diner is doing, how he has a ragtag group of staff. What happened after his parents were gone and how he wasn’t sure if he should sell the place off and move back into their small sleepy little town but then Bucky and Steve came back almost at the same time. All plans stalled when Bucky was honorably discharged because he lost his arm and Jack took him in immediately when he found out he had nowhere else to go. Steve soon followed after his tour, all of them living in the big empty house behind the business, it felt like a home again. He rambled about his garden, a pitiful thing he had when he just wanted to grow some tomatoes and herbs until Bucky got his hands on it and he was amazed how green thumbed his best friend was, on top of it being therapeutic. Recently they were talking about adopting a dog, making a joke about how he thought he had that role since those two were practically married. 

Brock laughed and Jack was taken aback for a moment, wanting to keep that and everything else that was Rumlow all to himself, he selfishly wants that, wants him back in his life and to never leave again.

That stupid song popped on again, the DJ excitedly introducing it like it was the greatest next big thing and he rolled his eyes a little.

Biting his lip, Brock stared at him curiously, “What, don’t like this song?”

Jack glanced up, “Nah, it’s not that. I just heard it earlier and it kinda makes me..think about you and our summer together, if I have to be honest about it.” 

That seemed to really get Brock’s attention, shoulders completely falling back and his expression shifting to something softer, kinder maybe. 

Jack aches for him.

He gestures to one of the booths and they go sit down, if he’s going to talk, he has to sit just in case. Besides, it was a lot buried, he wasn’t sure what would come out.

“I missed you, still miss you actually,” Jack admits because there was really no point to play games and hide it. It wasn’t like he was somewhere where he could see Brock showing up on a normal basis if it was taken badly. He shrugs, almost laughing at himself. “I know it was only for one summer and we agreed with- ” 

He’s pretty sure Brock doesn’t think about their time together like he does. It’s like a little piece of sunshine for himself, a wonderful cherished memory for any time he feels down or lonely. He doesn’t regret what they had and he doesn’t blame Brock for leaving and becoming successful, in all honestly he’s actually really proud of him.

Brock made a small sound of air coming in between his lips, “I’m sorry fer not contactin’ you,” Those copperish golden eyes _really_ looked at him, “Everythin’ happened so fast and I couldn’t at first, felt like shit leavin’ you. Then as time took over, I was kinda scared of gettin’ the sharp end of your tongue for takin’ too long. Not a day passed when I didn’t wanna call ya Rawls and just say hi. I just turned into a damn coward.”

Jack glanced around, namely at the radio playing the last part of that pesky song that tried to keep it’s claws in him, at the bit where the singer wants to see their lover again just once more. That’s when Jack realizes Brock’s looking at him while singing along, his voice a little gravely, sort of off key and rough especially against the female voice but even in the slight nervousness he can hear the honesty behind it so clearly.

“All these damn songs,” Brock chokes back a laugh, shaking his head at his hands before one goes rifling through his mess of black hair, “I always think of ya when they play. I get mad at myself for it since it’s my damn fault and then I was fuckin’ tired of not knowin’. Fought with myself, I’m my best damn opponent you know..didn’t wanna chase you down and find out you were married or had someone you were serious with that wasn’t me. Or you hated my guts for leavin’ and never callin’ ya. I just up and left, drove up here just to see. I had to, just hopin’ to see if maybe you wanna..”

Hopeful eyes stared at him and suddenly Jack’s back in high school again, their last year and Brock looking nervous and shaky while he’s asking him out on a date. It feels like it only happened just yesterday.

Jack sat back against the plush leather of the booth, green eyes studying Brock and he knows what his answer’s always been, “I want to say yes but I can’t leave everything here. The diner, my quiet life, Bucky and Steve are now my roommates and helping me take care of things. They haven’t been the same since they came back from the war but they’re good, they like how everything is. It’s safe and constant for them, I can’t just up and leave it all and your life isn’t.." He gestured towards the diner, "this..” 

A passing thought crosses Jack’s mind of Brock surrounded by the lights and the crowd, of cage fighting and winning because he’s real damn good at it. Pure steel with the heart of a lion, Jack followed him through the papers quietly, he knows that life isn’t over for him.

“It can be though,” Brock lets out softly, “I can travel to these places any time I want. Our town had a decent gym, I can probably go check it out tomorrow and see what they need to upgrade and help ‘em out. I don’t care Jack, I wanna _try_.”

Jack could see the way Brock was trying to clasp together trembling hands, faded bruised knuckles and cuts attempting to be a distraction for them. It makes Jack think about how much maybe Brock hadn’t changed, remembering when he saw the same nervous tick before they were shoved into his pockets and he patiently waited for what the boy he was madly in love with had to say all those years ago. 

Reaching across the table, Jack places a hand over Brock’s and smiles at him, patient and waiting like he always had, “I think I want to try Brock.”

He gives Jack a sleepy smile, trying to stifle a yawn, “Lemmie take you out tomorrow, make up for all the time I wasted not doin’ this earlier.” He tries to hold back the second yawn escaping, brows knitting together in annoyance.

“Wait did you,” Jack sighs because of course Brock did, “You drove 10 straight hours to get here?” 

Brock scratches the side of his head, eyes fighting to not droop, “9 actually, downed some energy drinks on the way. Told ya, I had to. Skipped out on trainin’, got in my car and left.” 

Jack thinks for a moment knowing Steve should be arriving in an hour, but Bruce-

He turns to the kitchen and Bruce is there, smiling politely because he knows the man wouldn’t eavesdrop but there are those moments when his friends butt in for the sake of Jack's sanity.

Fixing his glasses, Bruce puts them back on and shrugs, walking away and coming out through the kitchen door with a towel draped over his shoulder, “Go. Get some rest, I should be fine until Steve comes in.”

Grateful, Jack gives him a nod and pulls off his apron, tucking it away past the half door at the end of the counter and gesturing for Brock to follow him out the side door, “Come on, I’ll take you to the house.”

“Already gettin’ fresh?” Brock jokes when they step outside. He quickly jogs to his car to grab a duffel bag and rejoins Jack on the short path leading towards a house perched at the top of a hill.

“I’m offering you the guest room unless there’s junk stored in there, if there is you can have my room, I’ll take a couch- ”

Brock snorts behind him as they climb the path and Jack looks over at him in confusion.

“How many times did we have sex in your bed?”

Smiling fondly, Jack shrugs, “A lot after the first time. Had to get creative with washing the sheets so I wasn’t alerting my parents.”

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry about that..”

“Not like I cared.”

“..Do you still remember the first time we..?”

Jack stares off straight ahead, nearing the home, “Of course I do, it was my first time but you knew that.”

They get to the porch steps and Brock looks out to the dark skies and the stars barely there as the daylight began to creep in a little, glancing back at Jack with a fond smile. Pretty sure he can see, even under the cover of night, that he’s blushing, “Was my first time too Jackie.”

Feeling a little blindsided, Jack was shocked, “Oh. I didn’t know that..thought you..” He mumbled dumbly. 

Brock took his hand, fingers tangling together, “Nope, hadn’t ever slept with anyone else before that. Jus wanted you.”

“Jesus Brock.”

“I hope I didn’t fuck up tellin’ ya that. I just,” He exhaled nervously, “Always think about it, about us. Made me happy, was mad I let ya go.”

Jack shook his head, letting them inside, squeezing Brock’s hand gingerly, “We talked about it. I knew what I was getting into and you were doing what you dreamed about your whole life, there was no way- ”

“ -Shoulda fought for you Jack, no one compared to you these past 10 years.”

Jack rested his hand against the fading wallpaper by the stairs, the house quiet, no one awake just yet, “I couldn’t think of anyone but you, there was no one else for me.”

Brock stared at him in surprise, “Why didn’t ya tell me?”

Shaking his head, Jack gazed out the window, “Wasn’t gonna interfere with your dreams Brock, you know that. Even if you stayed you woulda ended up resenting me, I wouldn’t have been able to deal with that.”

Stepping into his space, Brock peers up, bridging the distance between them and pulls Jack closer for a kiss, soft and careful. 

Jack returns it, pressing a hand to the small of Brock’s back like he always did when they kissed and Brock makes a gentle pleased noise against his mouth, everything between them quickly becoming more eager.

“Jack, fuck..dunno how many times I wanted to come back for ya,” Brock rambled against lips, “Every damn day kept thinkin’ bout leavin’ it all behind.”

When they stop for air, pressing foreheads together, all Jack can do is close his eyes and rub Brock’s arms affectionately. Slowly Brock pulls back, removing shoes and coaxing him to lead the way upstairs. The guest room is to the far left, Jack leads Brock to his bedroom to the right.

Brock takes a minute to look around, “It’s like things didn’t change in here, got some new stuff but..mostly all the same and still playin’ records too I see.”

Something catches his eye, stepping towards the writing desk in the corner. Pens and little knickknacks sit around, a small black velvet box rests beside a scrapbook with his name on it and Jack only watches as he sits himself on the bed. Tracing his fingers along the lettering of the book, Brock looks inside to find various newspaper clippings about him and his matches, his standings, photo shoots and interviews. Turning back to Jack, his eyes grow a little misty, “Jack..you- ” 

Jack knows Brock gets it now, giving him a tight smile because he feels exposed about it all of a sudden. He just nods to him not sure exactly what to say.

“Why didn’t ya tell me?”

Jack shakes his head, “I can’t do that Brock, I told you.”

Brock practically glared at him, jaw set firm, “It’s simple; ‘don’t fuckin’ leave Brock, I’m in love with you’.”

Drawing in a breath, Jack only smiles at him patiently because if he speaks it’ll be the same line he just threw out and he’s willing to wait another ten years or ten lifetimes for Brock and now Brock knows that. 

A few seconds go by before that part sinks into Brock's head and he lurches forward, Jack standing to his feet to meet him and the both of them collide into a hard hug. Jack has to shift his weight a little because Brock’s bigger now, running into him like a train, all muscle and glory but he’s got him, he always has him no matter what and he hopes Brock understands that. 

Jack presses a kiss against Brock’s temple, light and careful, he’s always been careful with things that matter most to him and he doesn’t want to let Brock go. 

He still smells familiar, scent faded from the sheets a long time ago and off clothing Brock used to wear of Jack’s when he was too lazy to find his on the floor but Jack can smell it now, like it’s yesterday and he was in his arms, lingering tendrils of coffee and perspiration from the summer heat or from their sessions between the sheets. Brock's fading cologne sat just barely there, settled in his shirt and that subtle hint of his life back at the gym. Jack drops his head so lips brush against the shell of Brock’s ear, he can feel the light shiver travel down his body and he smiles.

“Don’t fuckin’ leave Brock, I’m in love with you.” He whispers playfully and Brock pulls back giving him that look he always remembers from hours of just beating him at video games and being on the receiving end of that facial reaction because Brock tended to be a sore loser.

“You’re a fuckin’ piece of work, you know that?” 

Fingers dance down Brock’s spine and he automatically tucks his head under Jack’s chin like he belongs there, _always_ belonged there but then Jack has always kept Brock’s place as he soaks in the familiar warmth against his body. 

They’re both getting used to being reunited again and hoping that neither of them is dreaming when he hears Brock yawn softly and Jack’s pulled him down on the bed with him. 

“Jack- ” Brock mumbles out against his chest.

“ _Sleep_.” He orders, trying to get comfortable under Brock as slumber slowly began to creep in for himself.

He shouldn’t be surprised when Brock sits up, he really shouldn’t when he used to do the same thing to him back when. The moment his eyes closed Brock would try to do things that kept him awake like sleeping was a bad allergy to him and he seemed to be the same way now.

For Jack’s part he does try to sleep and encourage Brock to do it too because those dark circles he saw under Brock’s eyes need to go but instead he distinctly hears the sound of Brock’s jeans unzipping and he knows he’s kicking them off somewhere on the floor without a word and after a few short seconds of movement he’s straddling thighs, fingers resting at Jack's own jeans.

He gazes up and Brock’s grinning at him, kinda happy and restless though his eyes are full of unsure insecurity that it’s been 10 long years apart and Jack may not feel like he’s ready for this. Brock is still readable in that manner and he’s glad, giving him a fond smile and bringing a hand up to cup his face, “I wanna, always wanted to but didn’t want to do anything..”

“I didn’t come out here just for some dick Rawls,” He whispers and leans in to kiss him, hands efficiently undoing Jack’s jeans and Jack obliges by lifting his hips, Brock and all, and feels him laughing against his mouth which in turn makes him laugh. They’re both stupid kids again, Brock falling off him sideways with hands still tugging at jeans and his boxers like he won’t give up without a fight and Jack is enamored by the flood of memories and how time seems to have picked up just where they left off.

Finally free, Jack stares as Brock returns back to straddling his thighs and getting him out of his shirt. He can tell just by Brock's face that he’s happy and a warm weight sits in his belly from it. Hands take their time roving over his naked body and every spot Brock touches feels like he’s being lit on fire, Jack trying his best to lay docile and let him explore and get used to the old with the new as he relishes quietly to Brock just being here again.

“God I missed ya Jack. Missed ya and I regret leavin’ ya,” Brock's hand dips down and Jack watches trailing fingers run along hips and then wrap around his hardening cock, “ -And this. Missed ‘im too. Always dreamed about comin’ back to your dick Jackie.”

Jack can’t help the laugh he lets out, dropping the back of his hand over his eyes, “Always a fan huh?”

“Mhm,” He practically purrs out and Jack feels himself smile; a firm calloused touch making him dizzy as he swallows down sounds he hasn’t made in such a long while. 

“Making me jealous of my dick right now..”

Brock nudges the hand away from eyes and grins as he leans in, pressing for another kiss, his hand stroking him off absently.

“You look good too, _real_ good,” Brock lets out softly against lips and he’s beaming, brushing his nose along Jack’s and he takes the chance to kiss any spot coming into contact with his mouth. “Always like I remember, maybe yer bigger and rougher lookin’ but those green eyes are always the same, always lookin’ at me like I’m the prize.” 

Jack kisses him instead of answering because he knows what Brock says is right and yeah he does look at Brock that way because it’s how he feels. He moves his hands along hips to push down the waistband of Brock’s boxers, a moan falling into his mouth as Brock pushes back into his hold. 

“Off..now,” He hears himself grumble out as he sits up and leans on one hand, eyes roving over each new inch of skin that reveals itself, staring like a starving man. There’s a soft dull darkened bruise almost a fading purple at Brock's upper thigh and Jack can’t help reach out and touch it, fixated because he’s not sure-

“Don’t start,” Brock interrupts, wincing slightly at the bare pressure, “It’s from someone punchin’ me too low, ain’t been with no one for a while. I know you got your own damn jealous streak brewin’ inside of you right now.” 

He draws his eyes up, peering at Brock with a hand cupping his cheek, “Not as bad as you were sweetheart, hadta keep the knives away if anyone even looked my way.” 

Snickering, Brock tilted his head against warm palm, “How’d we even fuckin’ deal with 10 years apart?”

“I loved you that much.” Jack admits almost instantly, not scared anymore, only feeling open and honest with him.

Brock’s quiet and staring at him, hands resting against his bare shoulders with an unreadable expression he can’t figure out but that’s okay, his own palms sliding along thighs and rubbing warmed skin.

“ -Been thinkin’ I’ve been in love you for a long time Jackie, a _real_ long time. Jus been stupid about tellin’ ya, wasn’t sure and- ”

All Jack does is smile, fingers brushing up along ribs and cupping skin forcing Brock to lose his words, a small look of irritation crossing honey brown eyes because Jack still knows how to get to him but he watches as they soften again when thumbs barely brush along nipples.

“It’s been way too long Jackie,” Brock says all of a sudden and trying to catch the breath Jack didn’t even know escaped him, “Yer gonna have to go slow.”

Green eyes look up, a little curious as he’s studying his face, “I thought you- ”

“I _have_ ,” Brock bit his lip pensively, “But I found only you can get me off before you really even touch me.”

Jack almost cums from that confession alone, pulling Brock in for a kiss, his hand fitting perfectly around the back of Brock’s neck like it always did, drawing away eventually to press their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry.” Jack says guiltily. “I should have tried..”

Brock immediately shakes his head, “Nah sweetheart, don’t start that shit with me. You were lettin’ me grow, I was the one being a fuckin’ idiot.”

Jack shakes his head trying to stop him from continuing, curving his hands around the back of Brock’s thighs to pull him close, though he can’t get himself to think of anything to say more. He just wants Brock like this for as long as he can breathe.

To his surprise Brock nods in absent agreement, leaning off the bed to rifle in his bag, tossing a bottle of lube and receiving Jack’s raised brow. 

“I planned ahead alright? We can talk later.” 

“Condoms?”

Brock shrugs, sheepish like it’s an accident he doesn’t have any but Jack knows better.

“You got any?”

Jack’s shaking his head and reaching for the bottle, “Never saw a point when I wasn’t doin’ nothing. The others?”

“Made sure no one was doin’ me without one. Some tried, beggin’ even like I would change my damn fuckin’ mind.” 

Coating his fingers Jack smiles a little, a ripple of pride rushing through him, “I seem to remember you forgetting the condoms the last time we were fucking too.” 

Brock leaned against him, nose brushing along scruffy jaw, “Hmn, jus the one time Jackie. After that you didn’t mind.” 

“That’s because it was me and you. No one else. Didn’t much mind as long as you were okay with it.” 

“Was always okay with it, like feelin’ you fill me up.” 

Jack groans out, catching Brock’s mouth for a kiss as he teases a slick finger along his rim before easing in. It doesn’t take very long to hear him whine for a second one. 

Brock is right though, he does have to go painfully slow as much as they both hate it after waiting so long. Jack could already hear him panting wetly against his neck after just three fingers and he still needs to try for a forth to make sure he’s not hurting him. But it’s good, it’s so good, and when Brock pushes him down onto his back, Jack goes happily.

Every memory he’s recalled over the sight of Brock on top of him was never as good as the first time he actually did it. Now though, he wonders about that as he stares in awe, Brock’s mouth falling open just a little. Light from the early morning comes in through the window bouncing off Brock's dampened lips as he sinks himself down onto Jack's cock, a physical shudder curving up Brock's spine as he worked. 

Jack slides hands up onto Brock’s hips, trying to help ease him on but Brock shakes his head a little and instead he moves them across bare ribs dusted with fading bruises from matches. A soft whimper slips out of Brock and he mumbles out something in Italian that’s definitely a string of curse words before he leans down to brace himself on Jack’s chest once he bottoms out.

It’s intense and desperate, but also unhurried; nothing like any other time they’ve had sex, their movements languid and soaking in every detail of their bodies together. Jack can feel the tension still running through Brock and he knows exactly how he feels, that even through all of this he’s worried it won’t come out happy. Jack feels it, wonders the same thing but he also knows everything will be alright, he promises as he raises a hand and cups the face that can’t stop staring at him because he can’t get enough. It’s all he offers, content to let Brock lead and go at his pace, let him understand entirely and thoroughly that Jack is completely giving himself up to him. 

“Jack..” Brock murmurs, voice low and a little raspy. “ _Jack_..” He makes a noise of exasperation and pulls Jack upright until Brock is fucking down on his lap faster because he’s needy and impatient. Arms wrap around Jack’s neck and he kisses him thoroughly, until Jack’s mouth is bruised and the trimmed fingernails that dig deep into the muscles of his upper back begin breaking skin.

As much as Brock tried to drag it out for them, he can’t and Jack can’t help himself either when he gets a hand between their bodies to jerk Brock off. He’s cumming almost the second fingers wrap around and gasping into Jack’s mouth while those same nails scratch deep marks across his skin. It only takes Jack more thrust upwards before the tight coil in his belly explodes into a fiery warmth throughout his body and he cums hard before falling back against the mattress with Brock in tow, panting into his dampened and messy black hair.

Feeling his sweat cooling as Brock situates himself and climbs off him, Jack grabs his shirt from off the floor and wipes the both of them down like he always did. They’ll need a shower either way but Brock shoves his hand away for now, laying back down on top again, skin still sticky and moist.

Jack smiles, fingers brushing through his hair, arm wrapping around Brock’s waist, “You really want this?”

“Yes,” Brock shoots back not even looking up, side of his face pressed against Jack’s chest, “You ain’t gonna be changin’ my mind.”

Jack tugs him up just a bit, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Brock _knows_. Can read him even after this long and it makes something in his chest flutter. The idea had crossed his mind to convince Brock not to handicap himself with the distance of travel and whatever was going to cause issues being together but Brock was stubborn and Jack knows better. For now though, he was understanding how much he had hollowed himself out until Brock had returned, the void space filling back up again with a special kind of happiness.

Brock raises his head up, eyes scrutinizing, “Stop thinkin’ so much. I ain’t ever leavin’ you again. I promise you Rawls,” He tucks his face again Jack’s neck and sighs. “Sleep now.”

They fall into place like they always did, picking up from the last time they were laying here together, maybe a little older now and they’re both definitely too grown for the bed so he may have to buy them a new one but everything else still feels the same.

Jack yawns thinking about Brock’s smile and the way his body feels perfect against his like it always did. He also thinks about the little velvet box Brock seemed to miss in his curiosity over the scrapbook. 

He wonders if Brock would get upset or maybe unhappy that inside it was a proposal ring he had made but never tried to offer him all those years ago..he hopes it fits too, well he can always get it resized.. 

He wonders that if he asks now will Brock accept it, maybe over breakfast that’s really lunch together and hopes he still likes banana pancakes with blueberry smoothies no matter how strict his diet is. He's allowed to cheat sometimes, with food at least.

Jack smiles, feeling himself drift away as something easily tells him that Brock will accept anything he has to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually didn't want to post this once it went into editing, I suddenly loathed it. Not sure why but I also can't delete work even if I hate it so yeah there you go, it's something ;)


End file.
